Volume 1, Chapter 50: Winds and Clouds Rising

Under the ink-dark night and biting cold wind, Duan Wuchen stood tall and straight in a desolate wasteland. His piercing gaze stared fixedly at the lifeless corpse of Duan Gou on the ground. Not until he was certain that all breath had utterly faded did he slowly draw the long sword that flashed with a chilling gleam under the moonlight.

"Ancestors of the Duan family, can you witness this? This traitor has been slain by my own hands. Yet, the journey of blood for blood has only just begun. It will not be long before I storm the very lair of the Huangfu clan, and with the blood of their entire lineage, comfort your spirits in heaven!"

Duan Wuchen's voice was deep and powerful, sounding like a horn of vengeance echoing from the nethermost depths of hell, reverberating for a long time across the silent night sky...

Feeling the commotion coming from Bai Chen's direction, Qian Renxue was utterly astonished. Even for her, such rapid progress during cultivation was simply out of the question. Bai Chen's cultivation speed had reached such an unbelievable realm that it felt almost impossible.

In the period following the examinations, Zhao Hui sometimes went out to play with Li Zhenguo, and other times she would join Na Yanhua to visit Wang Lifang.

Putting everything else aside, the reserve of soul bones belonging to the Holy Wolf Sect was quite substantial, easily surpassing many of the other major sects.

Gorgeous though that face was, Yue Guan and the others right now only wanted to plant a few fierce slaps squarely across it.

"Is that stuff really that great to smoke? I don't drink, and I don't smoke; I steer clear of both entirely, so there's no way I can understand your suffering," Teacher Ye replied.

Jingu Yu could endure this kind of dry and arduous training, yet he never had enough time to practice.

Cheers and jubilation rang out continuously. Taking advantage of the moment when Jingu Yu's hands were injured and he was unable to push them away, some of the cheerleaders lingering at the scene even leaned in and kissed him on the face.

Hearing Ning Zhen's words, Bai Ying and Bai Yun snapped back to their senses. They cast a glance at Ning Zhen, and for a moment, both of them were completely overwhelmed by his formidable aura.

This long spear was Bai Chen's natal weapon, and the wounds it inflicted would severely worsen the tearing of the flesh, making recovery extremely difficult—even for gods.

I slipped my mobile phone into the pocket of my knitted hoodie and took an unconcerned sip of coffee. "Whose call is it?" Only Shina Momo would ask such a moronic question, and do so with such directness; it was entirely in character for him.

By the time the two of them finished ordering and the dishes were served, a full quarter of an hour had already passed. Zhang Yuanhao was in no particular hurry, but Long Xin was rather hungry. As soon as the food arrived, she eagerly shoveled bites into her mouth, looking utterly intoxicated with delight.

Moreover, among everyone present, Zhang Yuanhao figured that Qi Pingdao probably could not have failed to notice this point either, yet the latter had chosen not to expose it.

Accompanied by Wu Hao and Wu Chen stepping inside at the very last, that heavy and massive gate emitted a creaking sound as it slowly began to close.

At the same time, everyone felt a creeping chill in their bones. Born from mortal hatred and grievance, no one knew just how terrifying this lingering thread of malice could be, nor what kind of monstrosities it might commit.

Ling Tong wielded a spear with one hand while holding a shield in the other, shouting, "Your Majesty, follow this general to break through!" Thus Zhou Tai took the lead and Sun Quan brought up the rear, fighting fiercely to force their way out.

Gao Qiu looked at the speaker and saw a man whose face was dark as the bottom of a wok, with nostrils turned upward, curly reddish hair, and a burly stature standing eight feet tall—truly hideous to behold.

The aura emanating from these two was nothing like the mere "slight proficiency in martial arts" that Li Chenwei had claimed.

That elderly Foundation Establishment cultivator watched in sheer terror as the white smoke threatened to corrode its way through, frightening his wits away, and hastily begged two late-stage Foundation Establishment cultivators nearby for help.

The蛮王 (Barbarian King) Meng Huo, newly ascended to the throne, had listened to Du Juan's counsel and allied with Yong Kai to rebel merely to make a show of force to Han Wei. Why would Meng Huo listen to Du Juan? Naturally, there was an essential reason behind it.

Zhang Yuanhao gathered his focus for a moment, the killing intent in his eyes slowly receding until not a shred remained, leaving only a cold, stern composure.

Xiang Lai turned away, unable to bear watching the scene. Qingyi had said he came to the Southern Zhou State when he was fourteen, so how old was he now? At the very least twenty-five or twenty-six, right? Reckoning by that, hadn't he been away from home for more than a decade?

Zhang Fang let out a slight sigh, scooped the fast-asleep Helian Nuo up into his arms, kicked up some dust to extinguish the campfire, and strode off into the darkness.

For the time being, dwelling within this primitive planet without any daily necessities mattered little, for Miying's different dimension served as the absolute, perfect storage room. Besides, having nothing at all meant nothing to Miying and Bulla.

Xiang Lai tapped her machete against the ground, spun three hundred and sixty degrees in mid-air, and landed safely on her feet.

Divinities required the power of faith, and the creatures of the Demon Realm could provide an ample supply of it. Even for this reason alone, the deities of the dark alignment would not easily allow the Demon Realm to vanish.

Plagued by a millionfold hesitation, I still ended up calling Diao Chen. Having just returned to work after recovering from his injuries, he was buried in mountains of work. Yet he could casually chat with me while carrying on a flawless conversation with someone else. The crucial part was that his train of thought and speech remained impeccably clear, effortlessly shuttling between two completely unrelated matters—he was simply powerful to an extent that defied the heavens.

"Is he really this strong?" Such combat went completely beyond the comprehension of Number Eighteen, who was still just an ordinary human. Was this the kind of strength a human being should possess?

Yet looking at Niu Chong's honest and aggrieved expression, could Helian Nuo, who had always possessed a soft heart, truly harden herself enough to utter a refusal?

"Mr. Vister! Please mind your status!" The elderly mage Claudius's expression shifted drastically as he hurriedly cast a magical barrier to protect the carriage. Ordinary as Yan Fei's usual smiling demeanor might seem, the moment his blade cleared its scabbard, the resulting aura was almost too much for even the old mage to bear.

Yu Linghui stepped forward aggressively with a smug look, while Hongxian could only steady her mindset and engage the opponent with cool composure. Seeing that his disciple had failed to take down Hongxian for so long, Bu Kong also began to grow anxious for his pupil. Down below, the crazy monk stared intently at the arena, terrified that Hongxian might suffer some mishap, as losing then would mean losing the crazy monk's own face.

Cyan true essence rippled within the palm of his hand, hovering before him like a tiny droplet of blue water, which then blossomed with concentric ripples to transform into a light shield of cyan true essence.

A bizarre scene instantly materialized before Zhang Fan's eyes: a ghost clad in ancient attire, wielding a long saber, materialized from behind the young man and slashed toward Zhang Fan.